


Knowing What I Know, I Choose You

by NeuroWriter14



Series: Ways Back To You [6]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous cause, Do not repost, Kinda like Ground Hog's Day, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, or Happy Death Day, time reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26688550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14
Summary: Will and Hannibal fall from the cliff and when they crash into the water, everything changes. Will is given a second chance at his life. Will he choose the same path, knowing what he does now?
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Ways Back To You [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904167
Comments: 11
Kudos: 233





	1. Chapter 1

"This is all I ever wanted for you, Will." Hannibal's breath was ragged, likely from pain and exertion. "For both of us." 

The words went right to Will's pain addled brain. He understood now, completely. And it was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was dangerous. And he was utterly and completely lost to it. 

"It's beautiful," He managed to breathe. 

He pulled himself closer to Hannibal, gripping the other tightly and resting his head on his shoulder. The wounds in his cheek and shoulder didn't matter anymore. The body lying next to them didn't matter anymore. He could only feel Hannibal's touch. He had denied himself, denied them both for three years. Denied them even before that. They had torn into each other, leaving wounds and scars in various places. Will's scars had physical representations but Hannibal's were equally as deep. And here they were, together again. He clung to Hannibal, unable to keep himself from doing so. And Hannibal clung to him in return. 

Will's head was pillowed on the other's shoulder, their bodies pressed together as though they always belonged that way. Hannibal leaned his weight against Will as much as Will did him. It was a strange feeling, finally finding a home in the arms of another. A killer nonetheless. But so was Will. Hannibal twitched slightly, his head moving downward and into Will's line of sight. He knew it was the other's way of checking on him, but Will wanted something else. No, he needed something else. 

It ached as he pushed forward, pressing his lips against Hannibal's. Their lips tasted of copper and the kiss of missed opportunities. Will's arm ached as he dragged his hand upward, pressing against the back of Hannibal's head. Hannibal returned the kiss, the two of them taking what they had so badly desired after all these years. He thought back to the first day they met and Will's utter annoyance at the man who looked so deeply into his soul from the first moment. He remembered the look of adoration in his eyes as Will finally made eye contact. This is what he wanted all along. Under the copper, Hannibal tasted exactly as Will had imagined in his darkest fantasies. He pushed closer, his and Hannibal's bodies molded together. 

He tightened his grip on Hannibal who in return, tightening his grip on him. 

Will had one option left. One last thing he could do. He knew he was beyond saving at this point. He also knew that to an extent, Bedelia was right. He couldn't live without Hannibal. His option was one thing. Either the world would have both of them or neither of them, and he was going to make certain that he had tried. He couldn't save himself, he couldn't save Hannibal. But he could try one last time to do the right thing. And if they both came out alive, then so be it. But he wouldn't live in a world that didn't have Hannibal Lecter. His feelings for Hannibal were far too deep for him to analyze now, especially given what he knew, but he also knew this was his last opportunity.

All or none.

Hannibal didn't fight him when his weight began to shift. His grip only tightened on Will as they began to fall. It seemed they both understood the same thing. Hannibal submitted to Will and whatever he wanted. And if that was one final attempt to right his wrongs, Hannibal wouldn't fight him. 

Their lips met again in mid-air and some part of Will prayed they survived the fall. Prayed because if they survived, it would only be him and Hannibal. No Jack. No surrogate daughters. No wives or children. There was nothing wrong with the other people, they were all good and loving. But Will had fallen for the devil, and now the fall was claiming them both. 

He could hear the ocean before he finally fell into it but even that was overshadowed by the pure love that he felt from Hannibal. He managed to turn them just enough so that the first person to impact the water would be him. 

And then everything went black.

* * *

_Will's eyes focused on Hannibal in the darkness of his house. Mason was in the corner, cutting off pieces of his own face. But neither Will nor Hannibal could care. They were locked with each other. Will couldn't drag his eyes away, couldn't force his body to turn any other direction. Hannibal was like a drug for him, addicting and magnetic. It was in times like this, where Hannibal was in complete and utter control of the room, that Will lost his constant battle with himself. Because while Hannibal was in control of everything around him, he submitted control over him to Will. It was, in Hannibal's own language, a way of showing his dedication and devotion. Hannibal had a complex language, a way of speaking that Will could understand completely. Had he been anyone else, he might not have seen what he saw. And that was the man, the real man, hidden under the monster and the extremely clever person-suit. Hannibal only ever revealed a facet of himself to the world and those who saw his darkness typically didn't live. Except for Will, who could see the darkness and still come out the other side. For Hannibal, this was a gift, one for only him._

* * *

_Will sought refuge at Hannibal's not once, but twice in his life. The first time, was when he was on the run, wondering who he was and where it had all gone wrong. And the second time was now, as he sat in Hannibal's kitchen alone. The last time he had been there, his stomach had been ripped open and Hannibal had left him. But it was strange. Hannibal hadn't fully left him, there was still a mark of him, a piece of himself that he had left with Will. It was almost as though he had opened him just to leave his heart in the wound. Something in him told him that they had both left a piece of themselves in this room that day. And Will was determined to find Hannibal and give it back._

* * *

_Will watching Hannibal as he prepared the meal. Hannibal spoke about the meal prep, explaining something to Will that he could hear but couldn't quite comprehend. Instead, he was infatuated with the way Hannibal moved around the kitchen. He was watching a god in their own domain. Hannibal easily moved around the kitchen, all but ignoring those he had hired to help him. His focus was completely on Will, even when he wasn't looking at him. Will felt the insane need to drift closer, as though Hannibal was a magnet and he was his polar opposite. Will did shuffle closer, just a bit, before a movement in the corner of the room caused him to stop. He wanted more than anything for it to just be him and Hannibal. No hired staff, no dinner party abut to commence. Just Will and just Hannibal. Hannibal's amber gaze focused on him intently, disagreeing with Will's assessment that he wouldn't be good company. And Will wanted nothing more than to submit right there. And why shouldn't he? Hannibal was his friend. Right?_

* * *

Will woke with a start, his body shifting wildly. The room was dark and strangely familiar. He blinked in the darkness, awareness slowly coming back to him. Two things happened at once. First, his hand shot to his cheek, feeling the distinct lack of a wound or bandages. At the same time, he realized he was dressed in only a t-shirt and briefs. He pulled the shirt away from his body slightly, feeling the fabric shift over him. He stood, the bed creaking under his weight as he left it. There was a mirror next to a rather small TV in the room and Will switched on the light next to it, seeing his face illuminated.

There was no scar on his forehead. No wound on his cheek. No blood on his lips or mouth. He pulled at his shirt, seeing no scar on his right shoulder, or bullet scar in his left. He pulled the shirt upward, seeing his abdomen completely smooth without the scar that had run across it. Will felt like his head was spinning. His heart started pounding in his chest. He had heard of one's life flashing before their eyes when they died. He didn't think that meant reliving memories completely differently than how they occurred. 

Will tried to force himself to remember this day. To remember what had happened, where he was. He walked over to the nightstand, trying to wrack his brain the whole short trip. He wasn't in his house, this was likely a motel given the decor and small signs on the table. Will's bed was drenched with sweat, as was his shirt. He grabbed for his phone. It was smaller than he remembered, more compact than the last phone he had. This was years ago from what he could tell based on the TV and phone. 

He tried to remember what roused him from sleep. 

He tried to remember anything that would give him an idea as to how he had found his way here. He remembered the cliff, he remembered the Dragon, he remembered falling over the edge with Hannibal.

Hannibal.

Where was Hannibal?

He turned, looking at the bed behind him. 

It was empty. Only he was in it. He let his phone fall from his fingers suddenly feeling incredibly empty. 

He sat completely still for what felt like an eternity before the sound that had roused him from sleep echoed through the motel room once again. 

Will practically launched himself off the bed at the sound. His heart lept into his chest. He knew which morning this was now. He knew where he was and how he had arrived here. The memory of the past was a little fuzzy, especially given everything that followed, but he knew who would be on the other side of the door when he opened it. 

Light was the first thing he saw and it was slightly overwhelming. Even given the light he had turned on in the room behind him, it was nothing compared to the morning sun. He blinked unwillingly as his eyes adjusted. He stepped further into the opening of the doorway, seeing the outline of another begin to fill in. Hannibal was exactly as Will remembered him that morning, down to the clothes he wore and the way his hair was styled. Hannibal's eyes slid over Will's form and for a moment, he remembered he was only a t-shirt and a pair of briefs. But part of him said that Hannibal had seen him in various states of undress before and that this was nothing new.

Except that it might be. For Hannibal.

However Will had arrived here somewhere in his past, he seemed to have arrived alone. If that was true, this Hannibal wasn't the who went over the cliff with him. This Hannibal still thought he could live his life alone. This Hannibal thought that the only to deal with his feelings about Will was to frame him, to make him lose all sense of self, and then abandon him. This Hannibal wasn't the same Hannibal who let Will do as he chose because he no longer needed to be alone. 

"Good morning, Will." Hannibal greeted. And he suddenly worried even more that everything was starting all over again. 

Was he doomed to live all his worst mistakes over and over? Was this his punishment? Had he died and this was how he would spend eternity? Doomed to remember things but never change them? Was he forced to watch everything he had and potentially loved slip away again and again until the end of time?

He would rather rip his heart out now and place it at Hannibal's feet. He would rather die and be done with it than live everything all over again. 

"Hannibal." It was the only thing he could manage to say. 

_I don't find you that interesting._

_You will._


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal woke thrashing, which was odd for him. The last time he had nightmares which manifested physically was after Mischa's death. Since then, however, he had managed to control himself enough that even if his dreams ventured into the dark, he would show no signs of it. When he woke in a tangle of blankets rather than the arms of the ocean, he was confused. At first, he couldn't help but think that it was perhaps a few days later. That Will had dragged them from the ocean and they were elsewhere now. It took him several seconds to realize that the bed next to him wasn't warm and that the bed itself was much smaller than would be necessary to hold two people. At first, Hannibal's mind reasoned that he and Will weren't sharing a bed. Then he started looking around the room. 

He remembered this. He remembered the room. He remembered waking up in this room once before, years ago. His eyes jumped over the contents of the room. He knew exactly where he was. And it was impossible. 

He looked over at his phone, pulling up the calendar to note that the year was what he thought it would be. Standing, he moved to the small refrigerator of his hotel room, noting the contents for breakfast that he had yet to prepare. The meat, he knew, would be lung. He wondered if they had died then. If he never reemerged from the ocean and instead, this was his fate. To spend the rest of eternity reaching constantly for someone who only ever embraced him at the end. Not that Will didn't want to. His three-year absence was as much a punishment as Hannibal's absence had been while the other was recovering. 

He pushed his legs over the edge of the bed, noting the lack of pain in his abdomen. He assumed that if he looked, he would be lacking the scar on his cheek given by Jack or the brand on his back courtesy of Mason Verger. If he were to check, Mason Verger would still be alive, Bella Crawford would still be alive, and Jack would be none the wiser about his profiler. Hannibal pushed himself from the bed.

Perhaps his punishment wasn't to repeat the past over and over. Perhaps it was a test to see if he would do something different given the circumstances. He gripped the edge of the bed, staring at the floor for a moment. He wasn't certain he could do it all over again. He didn't think that after everything he and Will had been through, he could stomach giving him encephalitis again. He didn't think he could leave his mark in Will's abdomen or on his forehead. He didn't think that if he were put to the task, he could rewire Will once more. After everything, he would give up anything to just have Will as he was. Even if that meant a part of Hannibal would always stay hidden. If he had to choose between inflicting that pain on them both once again or hiding a part of himself, he knew his choice. 

He was certain he readied himself slower than he had the first time he experienced this. But he remembered everything about that morning. He remembered the clothes he wore, which he put on once more. He remembered the drive to Will's motel. He remembered their first shared breakfast. He remembered that conversation. And he remembered what came later. 

Perhaps this was his dying mind giving him a chance for a do-over. Perhaps, if he could see Will one last time, he could have a memory of starting their relationship as he should have the first time. He knew they both had regrets when it came to the scars they had left on one another. They had burrowed deeply within each other, marking and claiming. But perhaps it didn't have to be that way. Neither of them would ever be content to let the other belong to someone else, but perhaps they could belong more to themselves. 

He made the drive to Will's motel, knocking on the door likely aggressively than he should have. He had to admit that part of him was terrified at never seeing Will again. He would take the man he first met over nothing, but if this was his dying brain, that door might never open.

He waited for what felt like an eternity and the door didn't open. He knocked again. 

There was a shuffling inside and suddenly the door opened.

Will blinked into the morning light, his face distraught at first. As his eyes adjusted, they landed on Hannibal and he wanted to bathe in the weight of them. 

"Good morning, Will." He greeted. If this was a test or his dying brain, this morning would play out as it did the first time. Which meant the first words out of Will's mouth would be about Jack Crawford.

"Hannibal." 

He had never lost control as much as he did in that second, launching himself into the room. The door shut behind them with a loud thud as Will's arms came around him. He backed the other into the wall adjacent to the door, their lips colliding fiercely.

"You remember," Will whispered against his lips. "You remember." 

Their lips met again, hands grasping at hair and clothes. 

"I remember." 

He remembered the cliff and the moment they were about to fall over the edge. He remembered the feel of Will's lips on his own, and again as they fell. But it was nothing compared to this. It was nothing compared to the desperation he felt now, and the echoed emotion from the other. It was nothing compared to the relief he felt. He was clinging to the other, determined to not let go. Will seemed to have a similar idea, as his grip was tighter even than it had been before. 

"I thought this was my punishment," Will whispered. "To live it all again without ever having you."

"As I thought it was mine." 

"I didn't know if I could do it again. I didn't know if I could live this life anymore without you."

"I'm here," Hannibal reassured. 

"Maybe this is a dream," Will whispered. "Maybe we're dead and we have this chance to start our afterlife over from where our lives began." 

"If I am to spend my afterlife with you, starting where we began, then I will live it gladly." Their foreheads pressed together, their breath mingled between them. "With you by my side." 

Will tilted his head again, capturing Hannibal's lips once more. He would have fallen to his knees and worshipped the ground Will walked on if the other let him go. But Will's grip was iron. The breakfast Hannibal brought was abandoned somewhere else in the room. Will shifted them slightly, locking the door with a loud click. They were moving then, Will drawing them through the room and over to his unmade bed. Hannibal fell first and Will after him, the two of them a tangle of limbs. He felt strangely like a teenager given their shared groping of one another, but he didn't care. He had Will, his Will, and that was all he needed. 

Will for his part, seemed unwilling to let Hannibal move even an inch away. He used his body to trap Hannibal on the bed keeping them pinned and pressed together. 

Given the intimate nature of their relationship, it was interesting to Hannibal that they had only shared any physical intimacy only the day before. Or perhaps it was years into the future. Or perhaps time wasn't linear. Perhaps he had done what he once tried to do, what he had written in the notebook at Will's house, watching the other sleep. Maybe they had managed to reverse time. They were given another chance. 

Their bodies ground together. Any reservations the other seemed to have about their relationship was gone. Any hesitation he had once shown Hannibal was nonexistent now. He could feel every emotion Will pressed into every kiss. He could feel the possessiveness in the grip of his hands and the grind of his body. Neither would be content to share now. Not now that they had been given this chance once more. 

He returned every kiss with equal fervor, his hand fisting in Will's curls. He had longed to run his hands through his hair, to feel it under his fingertips, and to memorize the texture and every strand. The few times he had managed to touch them was not in the way he wanted. He distinctly remembered the day Will was shot by Chiyoh and the way he had maneuvered Will's head by pulling at his curls.

Suddenly, they weren't close enough for him. He needed closer. He needed more. 

Will seemed to sense his change in need, the one person who could read him from small shifts in his emotions and react accordingly. He pulled himself upward on Hannibal's lap, pulling off his shirt. Hannibal mirrored him, pulling at his clothes. Will was already in a state of undress, likely having just been woken up when Hannibal arrived as he had the first time. They didn't stop until their clothes were gone and Hannibal had his chance to admire the other's form. Like Hannibal, his scars were gone. There was no distinct line on his forehead or the scar on his abdomen. There was nothing to physically signify that Hannibal had claimed him. 

He pulled Will closer, not letting him sink onto his lap once again but instead burying his face in the other's abdomen, pressing kisses and bites where he had once left his mark. 

"You can't help yourself can you?" Will asked breathlessly above him. 

"I am possessive," Hannibal answered before sinking his teeth into tender flesh. Will gasped above him, his hand fisting in Hannibal's hair. 

Their needs had manifested physically, as Hannibal felt Will's cock, brush again his chest just briefly. He was equally as aroused, but he wouldn't do anything without Will's consent. 

When he finally let the other move, Will sank back down onto his lap, their lengths brushing together. The moan that echoed from Will's mouth was music to his ears, and he would do anything to hear it again. 

He would do anything Will asked at this point. If he preferred him dead, he would do it. 

It was strange how, even with the lack of physical intimacy they shared, both knew the other's bodies as well as their own. Will's fingertips trailed over his spine, raising goosebumps in his wake. Hannibal was wary of Will's shoulder, knowing his right shoulder had taken much abuse even before Will and Hannibal became entangled. 

Feeling Will's skin against his own set him on fire in a way he never thought possible. It burned through him into his core, settling there just as Will had all those years ago. Or now. 

"May I ask you something?" He whispered against Will's shoulder.

The other hummed his affirmation, his mouth too busy sucking a bruise against Hannibal's collarbone. 

"Do you find me interesting?" 

Will laughed, loudly, and enough for it to rumble through Hannibal's body as he did. After a moment, he hummed and shifted himself, meeting Hannibal's eyes. 

"I don't know, Doctor." There was a playful light in his eyes. "Maybe you need to make me."

Hannibal felt the challenge Will was issuing and he was more than willing to accept it. 

Hannibal flipped their positions, pushing Will onto the bed under him. He pressed them together, claiming Will's lips once more. Their cocks ground together making them both groan in tandem. Will's hand found its way to Hannibal's hair, gripping a handful. Will pressed himself upward, forcing their lengths to brush again and again. He was certain that the two of them could finish like that, just grinding together with barely enough contact. But neither of them would be content with that. They had buried their ways into each other, neither would be content to stay apart now. 

Hannibal worked his way down Will's body, kissing and biting as he went. Will groaned, letting Hannibal do as he pleased. 

He wouldn't deny that his mouth watered slightly knowing that he would finally be able to taste Will as he had wanted to for years now. He remembered the first time he and Will had been in this room. He had wanted to drop to his knees and take Will in his mouth then. He had seen much more of Will than most people were likely gifted that first day. He had lusted for Will from the moment they met, for a few reasons. But now it was no longer lust that controlled him. It was need, it was desire, it was love.

"Will," He said quietly, stopping himself from taking what he wanted. There was something he had to say before they were lost completely. Will looked at him, blinking through the lust and arousal in his eyes. "I love you."

Will shifted, running his hand through Hannibal's hair. "I know." He said quietly. "I love you too." 

He pressed a kiss against Will's pelvis, smiling mostly to himself. He let his tongue slid over his pelvic bone hearing Will shudder slightly. Another time, he would take his time with him. He would let Will explore more. They would take their time with their pleasure. But this wasn't the time for that. They needed each other now, in ways that they hadn't needed before. Maybe it was the near-death, or perhaps actual death experience, they had endured. Perhaps it was the fact that they had a chance to do it all over again. Whatever the case, he knew that Will needed him as badly as he needed Will. 

He took Will in his mouth, hearing the way Will gasped at the lack of warning. He used one hand to pin the other's hips to the bed while the other traced patterns over the other's body. How far their relationship had come from the first time they were here. Hannibal had lusted then, for a moment, but even then he had a greater desire for Will's brain than for his body. And then he realized that his feelings for Will had escalated. They had become love. He had loved him for years. They had gone from friendship to betrayal to outright torture of one another. And now here they were, adding lovers to the list of things they were to one another. 

He glanced up, seeing Will's eyes practically roll into the back of his head. His hand was fisted tightly in his hair while the other gripped the forearm of the hand that was pinning him to the bed. He could have stayed there for an eternity, pulling pleasure from Will and watching every facial expression that moved across his face unrestrained. 

The other tasted exactly as he imagined. Divine. 

Hannibal had long since abandoned the idea of God after he found his own. Being allowed even this chance was something he never dreamed of previously. 

After several minutes and a symphony of moans, he shifted his attention. He assumed that neither of them had lube on hand, though he assumed there was likely lotion they could use. But Will's grip was still iron in nature, so Hannibal doubted he would be allowed to move away much. Instead, he shouldered one of Will's legs, moving his attention downward.

He was amused at Will's reaction of nearly jumping off the bed at his probing tongue. But it didn't take long for his surprise to melt back into pleasure. He was careful to take his time with this, given what little they had or were allowed to work with. Will was shaking apart above him, his eyes screwed shut and his grip becoming almost painful. But Hannibal would tolerate it all. He would tolerate anything Will would give him because it was Will who gave it.

He readied the other as best he could, careful to make certain he was loose and lubricated as best he could. 

"Hannibal," Will groaned after a while. "Please."

He was lost then. That damned "please" was enough to drive him insane.

He pressed into the other, feeling a strange sense of being overwhelmed. Will's body arched toward him and his hands began scrambling, pulling him closer as he seated himself. Their lips met again as the other trapped Hannibal with his arms and legs. He had thought about what the other would be like during sex, though he wasn't surprised to note that Will who had been so touch starved throughout his life was needy with touch. He kept Hannibal close as their bodies ground together. 

Pleasure built within him, rolling through him in waves. Will's mouth returned to his clavicle, continuing to mark him once more. He turned his attention to Will's shoulder and sunk his teeth into the other's skin. Will moaned against his collarbone and his grip on Hannibal's back became tighter. They would never be able to share anything between them without leaving their marks. They were equally possessive, something Hannibal was beginning to glean more and more, and equally as demanding in their wants. It had taken time to pull this side of Will out, the side that so easily mirrored him. Just as it had taken time for Will to draw out Hannibal's true humanity, the side he had repressed for so long. 

_We're both alone without each other._

And they were alone no longer. 

He continued thrusting into the other's body, listening to the cacophony of sounds he produced. Hannibal wasn't exactly quiet himself, though most of the noises shared between them were often swallowed by the other in their bruising, demanding kisses. It was obvious to him that no one had seen Will at his fullest, not even in this sense. Will's body ground against his, taking what he wanted rather than giving what the other wanted. And it was glorious. It was enough to drive Hannibal to the edge and it took all his willpower to keep himself from falling over. The other buried his face in Hannibal's neck, clinging to him tightly. 

He pulled Will more into his arms, lifting them off the bed and Will into his lap. Will shifted immediately, righting himself so he could shift his hips in time with Hannibal's thrusts. Their lips met again, Will moaning loudly as Hannibal reached between them to grasp his cock. He didn't quite know where he ended and Will began and he didn't want to know. Not anymore. 

Will pressed Hannibal's body closer, draping himself over him. 

They were both on the edge now and Hannibal was determined to drive them over.

"Let go, Will." He whispered. "Come for me."

"Oh god," The other whispered, his back arching and pressing him against Hannibal more. His head fell back, giving Hannibal a brilliant view as the other's body tightened. "Hannibal." 

And they both were lost. He was exactly expecting to orgasm at the same time, but it was incredibly erotic that they had. Will's body became almost unbearably tense in his arms, rigid like a board. Until he collapsed and all his weight pressed against Hannibal. He lowered them to the bed slowly. 

Will was still a tangle of limbs around him, their bodies pressed together. 

"I have an answer for you now," Will whispered after several minutes of silence. Hannibal pressed a kiss to the other's hair, waiting patiently for him to continue. "I find you incredibly interesting." 

He smiled slightly, feel the other sigh contently against him. 

"Should have done this the first time," Will muttered and Hannibal laughed. 

"We can do it any time now." 

Will's eyes sparkled when he pulled away slightly, a promise of mischief within their ocean-colored depths. It didn't matter if they had fallen into the Atlantic, if the ocean had swallowed them. He had Will here and now, and he was content to be lost in the tamed ocean of the other's eyes forever. 

"Is that your recommendation, Doctor?"

"Perhaps," Hannibal answered, capturing the other's lips once again. 

"Good." 

He was lost completely. Owned thoroughly. He never realized it, but he had been since the moment he walked into this room the first time. Will had him then, at that breakfast. And he was content to kept forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://neurowriter14.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/NWriter14)


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